


Face the World (Prepare to Win)

by flipflop_diva



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Developing Friendships, Gen, Inspired by The Hunger Games, lots of cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-18 20:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8174830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: Steve Rogers was nervous. About being a tribute, about having to go up against people who had powers unlike anything he could imagine and, most of all, about being stuck with the one girl he didn't think he could ever relate to.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weasleytook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weasleytook/gifts).



> Thank you so much for your prompt, Weasleytook! I had so much fun with this, and I hope you enjoy it!

Steve was nervous, as nervous as he was the day he agreed to the experiment that ended up changing his life. Maybe more nervous actually. Back then, he had nothing to lose, but everything to gain. A new chance at life, a chance to be better, a chance to be one of the rare people in their country who were almost more than human. 

This, though, was different. He had nothing to gain, and everything to lose.

He could see the buildings and the lights of The Capitol in the distance as the train drew ever closer. It wasn’t going to be long now. 

He’d never been to The Capitol before. His mother had, once. She had told him and Bucky, his best friend, all about it when they were boys. But that was before, before they had changed the rules of The Hunger Games to ensure that the most powerful residents of each district competed against each other, before they thought that Steve going through the transformation process would ever mean he would end up as one of the tributes.

“I’d tell you not to be nervous, but that’s easier said than done.” A voice came from behind him. Steve managed to tear his eyes away from the window to look over his shoulder. Phil Coulson, his mentor, was standing there, hands tucked in the pockets of the suit he was wearing. Coulson was the only tribute from their district who had ever come back alive. He was a legend. He’d competed in the Games back when entrance was luck of a draw, not a selection process of the district’s best chances. He’d taken down men twice his size and outwitted people who were supposed to be unbeatable. 

“You were nervous?” Steve cringed as his voice came out a little shaky. 

“Terrified,” Coulson answered. “But you just have to believe you can do it.”

“Yeah.”

“You can do it.” Coulson set a hand on his shoulder. “You are stronger than almost every single one of them. Use that to your advantage.”

Steve shrugged. That part was true, and he wasn’t worried about defending himself as much as he was about the other part. “I’m not so great at killing innocent people who don’t deserve it,” he said.

“Most people aren’t.”

“I’m not sure I can do it.”

Steve expected Coulson to give him a stern look at that, to tell him to man up and do what he had to do to stay alive.

Instead the corners of Coulson’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Don’t. Use Natasha for that.”

Natasha Romanoff. The female tribute from their district. He knew her, of course. They were the same age. But he didn’t really _know_ her. No one did. She kept to herself. He wasn’t sure she’d ever had any friends. He’d never seen her with any.

He knew she was an orphan and had been since she was a baby. No one seemed to know what had happened to her parents. And he knew she was constantly in fights, judging from the bruises she was always sporting. He’d once seen her take down a boy who was a foot taller than her by springing on to his back and wrapping her legs around his neck.

He was pretty sure that move was what had garnered her entrance into the Games. There weren’t any females their age who had powers or enhancements like Steve did. Steve figured the organizers thought Natasha was close enough — or else they just knew no one would miss her if she didn’t come back.

Steve shifted now, from foot to foot. “I’m not sure I trust her,” he said.

“You don’t have to trust her,” Coulson answered. “You just have to trust that she wants to stay alive as much as you do.”

“What if she kills me?”

“She won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she needs you to keep her alive as much as you’ll need her.”

•••

Steve was nervous again, more so than when they were on the train even. Now, it was real. He could see the other tributes milling around. He knew he was bigger than most of them, but he knew how dangerous and how powerful the others could be. And he knew how easy it would be for most of them to snuff someone’s life out without a second thought.

Tonight was the parade of tributes. The first time the country was going to see them all together. The first time the people watching them were going to make a decision of whether or not they were worthy of rooting for, of whether or not they might want to send them some help during the games, be it medicine or food or weapons.

Steve’s hands were sweaty, but he was too nervous about wiping them on his costume for fear of reprimand. Coulson, but mostly Darcy, the incredibly energetic stylist assigned to them, had come up with their looks. She wanted them to look like warriors, like the heroes the country had hundreds of years before, the ones people talked about in bedtime stories, whispered down from generation to generation. His costume was modeled on someone called Captain America, whose name was based on the name of their country long before it was Panem. Natasha’s costume was based on someone called Black Widow.

Darcy called them catsuits. Natasha’s was all black, except for the tiny symbol of a spider on her belt, and it was completely made of leather. Steve’s was dark blue with silver stripes, the colors of their district. His was tight and almost suffocating, but Coulson and Darcy had both looked incredibly pleased when he’d slipped it on.

Steve glanced to his side to see Natasha. As always, her face was completely unreadable, completely expressionless. The kids at school always said she was a robot, not a real person. Steve had always thought that was mean; now, he found himself wondering if they were right.

The line of tributes was beginning to head out. They were District 13 so they would be last. Representatives of the smallest district, and the poorest district.

He recognized the tributes from District 1. The richest district, the technology district. Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Rich, beautiful, incredibly intelligent. 

Some of the others he knew as well. The twins from District 3 — the girl who could manipulate people’s minds and her brother who was said to be the fastest man on the planet. The shrinking duo from District 7 — Scott Lang and Hope van Dyne, both of whom could supposedly shrink down to the size of one’s finger. Impossible to kill because they were impossible to catch. And the weirdest looking people he had ever seen in District 11 — Yondu and Gamora, they called themselves. He wasn’t sure if it was makeup or just their natural look, but he knew they were warriors to fear. 

And then there was him and Natasha. He had strength and he knew she had skill, but against all these people, most who had actual real power? It seemed like a hopeless battle.

But he didn’t have time to worry about it. At least not right now. Darcy was suddenly beside him, leading him and Natasha to their carriage and helping them in.

“Take her hand, smile at the crowd, look like you’re meant to be here!” Darcy shouted at him, as the carriage doors closed and she took a few steps back to blend in with all the other handlers and stylists. 

Steve blinked at her, unsure of how he was supposed to do any of that. 

Cool fingers slipped into his own. He turned his head, away from Darcy to the girl beside him. Natasha gazed back at him, as impassive as ever. Steve wished, not for the first time, that he could have been paired with someone else. 

“Are you ready for this?” he asked her.

Her eyes raked over his face, like she was looking for something. It made Steve uneasy. But then she shrugged.

“Do I have a choice?”

He didn’t answer. The carriage was starting to move, and he could hear the shouts from the people lining the streets up ahead. He turned his head to face forward, but as he did, he felt something, or at least he thought he did. A slight tremor in the hand tucked in his own.

He quickly glanced back over at her, but Natasha wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking straight ahead, her face completely stoic, completely calm. But Steve was sure he had felt something, and oddly enough, it made him feel better than he had been all day.

•••

He found her on the balcony that was attached to the floor where their rooms were. Every set of tributes got their own floor in The Capitol headquarters building for the night before the Games started. It was hard to not think that it could be their last night on earth.

She was leaning against the railing that overlooked downtown. He could see the lights of all the buildings below them, the vehicles roaming the streets. It looked beautiful from up here.

She did too. The moonlight seemed to glint off her hair, making it look like a fiery halo around her head. Her skin was while, almost porcelain. She looked almost like a doll, a child’s delicate toy, even though he knew she was far from delicate.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he said as he approached. She turned her head to watch him, and he almost froze in his tracks. For the first time since he had known her, she didn’t look emotionless. In fact, she looked … scared. 

Natasha Romanoff was scared.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said, and he heard it then, too, a slight tremor in her voice.

“Me neither.” He walked the rest of the way up to her, leaning against the railing beside her.

“There are a lot of people with incredible powers we have to fight against tomorrow.” Natasha turned her head back to stare out at the city again. 

“Yes, there are.”

He saw her purse her lips, like she was thinking of something, but she didn’t speak, just kept staring out over the city.

“We just have to play it smart,” he said.

Now she turned her head. “You’re a good guy, Steve,” she said. “And you’re strong. There’s no one who wouldn’t want you on their team. Tomorrow, when it starts, you should join up with some of the others. Make an ally. You could make it far. You could win.”

Steve frowned. “And you?”

She shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

“You want me to leave you?”

“I want you to have a chance.”

“Because you’ll have a better chance without me?” He couldn’t manage to keep the hurt out of his voice, even though he wasn’t sure why it stung at all. He didn’t know her. She didn’t mean anything to him.

But she was shaking her head. “No,” she said. “I don’t have a chance at all.”

And then he realized what she was doing, and he had a feeling the horror was all over his face. 

“No,” he said instantly. “You don’t get to quit. We do this together.”

“I’m not quitting.”

“You’re just okay with them killing you?”

“It’s better than being the one that gets you killed.”

“No.” He was the shaking his head now. “No. You don’t get to make that choice for me. We do this together.”

“Steve …”

“Together.” His voice was forceful. He waited until she was looking at him. “Do you trust me?” He asked her.

She studied him. “As much as I trust anyone.”

“Then trust me. We will do it together.”

“And if we die?”

“We won’t.”

He watched as her lips curved into a smile. He had never seen her smile before. It looked good on her.

“You’re very confident,” she said.

“Yeah. I am.”

And strangely enough, he realized he was. He hadn’t been, not on the train, not during the parade, but up here, with Natasha, realizing she was scared, realizing that this girl who had probably never had anyone in her life to ever count on was counting on him, he was confident.

He was going to do this — for himself, for Natasha, for Coulson and Darcy, for his mom and Bucky, for everyone at home. He was going to do this. He was.

He was going to survive The Hunger Games.


End file.
